


she's got diamonds in her eyes that she likes to hide

by austen



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 14:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/austen/pseuds/austen





	she's got diamonds in her eyes that she likes to hide

She writes their names together - the way all girls do.

But not every girl is Lyla Garrity, and not every boy is Jason Street.

She looks over each name on the list with a faint smile on her lips: _Lyla Street. Lyla Garrity-Street. Jason and Lyla Street._ Each is given just as much attention as the last, and she slips the paper between the pages of her diary, under lock and key.

She keeps the list in her head, too, and sometimes has to remind herself before she signs something as _Lyla Street_.

 

-

 

The day after they fight, after she comes home smelling like Tim, she ransacks her room looking for it, crumples it up in her hand, rips it five ways from Sunday and watches it fall, in pieces, to the floor.

The next morning, she carefully tapes it back together and tenderly presses it between the pages.

 

-

 

She tries to say no to this - how _wrong_ it all is. His breath smells like beer and it's not even five in the afternoon, and his hands fall sloppy on her hips, guiding her against him with a low grunt. His hair brushes her face in a butterfly kiss, and she turns away when his mouth fumbles for hers, as she fumbles for words.

_We can't, it's you, it's me, it's Jason_ \- it all gets stuck in her throat when he presses her up against his bedroom wall. The blue jersey blurs in her vision, and she sobs into the kiss.

 

-

 

He's still having trouble with his hands, the fingers curled almost like a claw when he reaches for her.

"Hey, baby," he whispers, and she nuzzles his cheek, the warm plastic of his neck brace bumping her chin. She prays she's sprayed on enough perfume to hide the smell of _him_, but he's only smiling when she kisses him. She curls up around him, the two of them sharing the bed together.

Laying like this, it's almost too easy to pretend.

 

-

 

She's late the second week. She does the only thing she can: she prays. She's pretty sure she's bound for Hell anyway, but this might keep her on the Lord's good side for just a little while longer.

When it finally comes, she nearly cries in relief. Her mother knocks on the bathroom door to ask: _what's wrong?_

"Nothing," she murmurs.

Nothing, and everything.

 

-

 

"It's weird," Jason says, as they sit out on the dock together. Her hands are around him, holding him steady, and his head falls heavy against her shoulder.

She looks down at a nudge, watches his feet aimlessly drift alongside hers in the water.

"I know how this is supposed to feel," he adds, the rumble of his voice echoing against her cheek, "but I just can't _feel_ it, you know?"

He can't see her eyes. She closes them, against the warmth of him on her chest, against Tim, barely brushing along her arm.

"I know," she whispers.


End file.
